


daddy issues

by visserhandcuffs



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Babies, F/F, F/M, Fatherhood, Friendship, Hook-Up, Motherhood, Multi, Murder, One Night Stands, Partying, Politics, Teen Pregnancy, becca being a wholesome mama bear, campbell getting what he deserves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25883950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visserhandcuffs/pseuds/visserhandcuffs
Summary: if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?a collection of scenarios examining the potential fathers of eden gelb, and their impact on the town of new ham.
Kudos: 9





	daddy issues

**Author's Note:**

> basically just me imagining harry's redemption arc for next season

**_Nine months before_ **

Harry Bingham was throwing another party. It was nothing out of the ordinary; he had a big house and his popularity was unmatched, so why not? It seemed to him that it was rude _not_ to throw one as often as he could. It wasn't like his mother actually took notice of his antics anymore so there was no harm done. Harry could get as drunk as he wanted to without judgement — because, let's be real, everyone else was in as much of a state as he was — and his friends and schoolmates could continue to buy into the idea that Harry Bingham was a god at West Ham High. 

Despite his mother's fleeting awareness of her son's life, he did have someone there to keep him grounded most of the time — his girlfriend, Kelly Aldrich. 

Their love was the classic tale of two rich kids whose families had been business partners for generations. They had been practically forced upon each other the moment they learnt what the concept of love was — or commitment at least, because the life their parents wanted for them couldn't be classified as any sort of love. Growing up, Harry and Kelly always knew that one day they'd end up with each other, and they bit that bullet early on in life. Getting it over with quickly, really. They had been dating for two years now, both of them seniors, and they were content enough. Or at least they pretended to be. 

Since the death of Harry's father, Kelly had been a support system more than anything. Someone to push Harry to be himself again, get him out of bed when all he wanted to do was cry under the sheets all day. Any spark that they once had seemed to be fizzling out. Maybe it was the grief, but as Harry thought about the fragility of life, he realised that whatever he had with Kelly wasn't exactly the great love that he imagined having in his life. Yet he plowed on, pretending to still be interested in her for the pure fact that he didn't want to lose her. He couldn't lose the only person that he could rely on nowadays. 

Despite Kelly being the one who always looked out for him at parties, this wasn't the case this time. She was away at her grandparents' house in Hartford for the weekend, and Harry, in theory, was free to do whatever he wanted. 

He took full advantage of her absence by drinking more than she'd usually let him. Not because she was controlling or anything, but because she knew he had a tendency to take it too far. He wondered how she'd react if she found out about the Xanax he had been sneaking out of his mother's medicine cabinet. 

Sometime around two am, Harry, still very much wasted, wandered into the house to escape the raging party going on by the pool. He had taken a dip in it earlier, his hair still damp and sticking down against his forehead. It wasn't his best look, but he didn't have enough sobriety left to care about that. 

He seemed to others as this outgoing life-of-the-party sort of guy, which he definitely was, but even Harry needed to refill his social battery sometimes. In fact, he embraced loneliness most of the time because, in his own way, he didn't really have anybody a lot of the time. He had Kelly, sure, but he didn't really have a best friend in any sense of the word. Grizz had Luke, Jason had Clark, Campbell was too much of a lone wolf for best friends, and Harry just kind of bounced around. 

He was more aware of his loneliness some days more than others and, ironically, this was one of the times he felt at his lowest. Maybe it was Kelly's absence, but it could also be attributed to the fact that it was _his_ party yet he spent most of the time isolated from everyone else, drinking out of a bottle of vodka by the pool. The little moments of the night where people came over to him, thanked him for the party or spoke drunken sentences to him that made no sense, were nice. Luke brought him a drink, a drunken Grizz spoke to him for a while about some poet that he pretended to be interested in, and there was Becca who called him an asshole, but at least he knew how to throw a party. She was drunk, clearly, but Harry knew her words came from a place where her sober mind could reach them too. 

Swaying as he walked, he grabbed another bottle of beer from the kitchen counter and boosted himself up onto the island. He over-exaggerated the dangling of his legs from the counter, his depth perception skewed from the concentration of alcohol in his bloodstream. Even though his feet were only a few inches short of touching the ground, he felt as though he was sitting on top of a high roof, any wrong move and he'd plummet to his death. 

He gulped down the beer in sharp intakes, trying to counteract the bile rising in his throat. It was a miracle that he hadn't puked yet, but the night was still young. He had always been a believer that kicking people out before six am was cheap, so he still had plenty time left to get wasted even further. 

Sometimes he'd find people still passed out in his house in the afternoon after a party, or his mom would find two half-naked teenagers in her bed when she got back from her business trip. Business trips being code for hooking up with Gary Aldrich in a cheap motel out of town — which Harry was oblivious to. Maybe he should've been suspicious, but, at that point in his life, he didn't have much interest in anything his mother did. Quite frankly, he was happy that she was out of the house so that he didn't have to deal with her. 

Outside on the patio, Becca Gelb was barely mobile. She was kept up by the surprisingly strong arm of Helena Wu wrapped around her back. She was giggling for no good reason as Helena dragged her inside and sat her down onto one of Harry's kitchen chairs. Neither of the girls noticed the boy sat on the countertop until Helena had made sure Becca was stable on the chair, and wiped the sweat from her brow from having to persuade her friend a little too much to walk. 

Becca didn't know how she'd gotten herself in such a state. Normally, Becca never drank — not even a sip of champagne at family Christmas or a sip of wine at a fancy restaurant — which was ironic since her house was littered with half-drunken liquor bottles. Yet, there she was stealing all of Harry's booze like a freeloader. 

She promised herself she wouldn't drink that night, but shit happens and sometimes alcoholism is the answer — that was one thing her mother had taught her. And on nights like this one, she didn't want to argue with that mentality. She knew she was being dumb and hypocritical, but wasn't that what being a teenager was all about? 

Helena walked further towards Harry, pep in her step as always. Not that he was paying much attention, the inside of his beer bottle was more interesting to him than the two girls. 

"Hey, Harry," Helena says, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. "Can I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge?" 

If he wasn't here, she wouldn't have asked and would've just grabbed one for Becca without hesitation, but it was only courteous to ask if he was sitting right _there_. She probably shouldn't have bothered since the only response she gets is a shrug of his shoulders which she takes as a green light to go for it. 

The condensation on the bottle chills her fingertips as she takes it out of the fridge and shuts the door behind her. Becca hasn't moved a muscle but she shoves the bottle into her hand nevertheless. 

Helena smiles at her. "Drink up!" 

Becca replies with a groan, but does as she's told. Twisting the bottle lid off is like a challenge to her, her line of sight unsteady. It's like she can feel her organs rejoice as she takes a sip of the water after a long night of drinking straight liquor. Although she can feel all the liquid sloshing around in her stomach, threatening to creep up her throat. 

Helena crouches beside her, sweeping away the stray hairs covering Becca's face. She looks as good as she feels, and, honestly, it isn't great. The black crop top she's wearing has been riding up all night which resulted in many degrading comments from several boys, but Becca, as always, stuck up for herself and gave them a good old lecture about the male gaze and how women don't exist to be objectified by them. It's fair to say that she shut them up quick enough. 

Her friend — who isn't _really_ her friend, but Helena knows to look after other girls at parties especially if they're in the state Becca is in right now — stares at her with concerned eyes. The look on Becca's face isn't one of discomfort or regret, but rather one of numbness. 

Helena lays a hand on her knee, trying to comfort her. "Is everything okay?" 

Becca sighs out, quickly growing claustrophobic. "I- I just need Sam. He's my ride." 

"I'll go find him for you." Pulling her lips into a tight line, Helena nods. "You stay here and drink your water, okay?" 

Becca doesn't have the energy or the brain capacity in that moment to argue with her, so she just nods and let's Helena do her thing. 

Helena stops in her tracks when she gets back to the door. She turns, angling herself back towards Harry. This time he's actually looking in her direction, and locks eyes with her as she faces him. 

"Look after her for me, it'll only be a minute," she raises her eyebrow in expectance and waits for Harry to nod back at her before heading back outside to find Sam. 

Harry releases a heavy exhale of breath, trying to get Becca's attention in a way, but she doesn't even flinch. It's easier to start conversation when it's mutual instead of having to get their attention by actually talking. Who knows, maybe she just didn't want to talk to him. 

Becca lifts her head, staring over at Harry hunched over on the countertop. He looks a million miles away, but also _right there_. Harry Bingham would never be her first choice for company, yet he's the only person around. 

She opens her mouth, a wild thought crossing her mind. It's not like her, but, then again, she hasn't exactly acted in character all night. 

"Let's have sex," she proposes, slurring her words. 

Harry blinks back at her, swallowing back his surprise. Becca Gelb wanted to sleep with him. Becca who he wasn't even sure knew what sex was. Maybe his brain should've told him no. That it was a dumb idea because neither of them were thinking straight, and then there was Kelly who didn't even spring to mind. Not that he was ever above cheating because, let's be real, he'd done it before. He wasn't proud of it, but he never claimed to be a perfect guy. Kelly probably knew, or at least suspected so anyway. 

To put it simply, he was touch-starved. Even before his dad died, he could feel Kelly growing disinterested in him. The sex was boring and the frequency was sporadic at best. 

Now that the offer from Becca was on the table, he was finding it hard to turn it down. So he didn't. 

He leads her upstairs to his bedroom. Their encounter is awkward from the get-go as she trails behind him, head in the clouds and not making eye contact. 

In all truthfulness, Becca is starting to regret it already. Her numbness is starting to wear off, but she doesn't change her mind. Reaching out for a warm body is her only concern, even if it is Harry. It's a distraction she needs, and she doesn't plan on throwing that away. She almost feels obliged to sleep with Harry as he shuts his bedroom door behind them. She has to do it; she has to _try_. And getting it over and done with to set her mind straight feels like the right thing to do even if there's no doubt in her mind that she'll regret it within a few hours. 

Harry picks up on her discomfort, looking at her with concerned eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

Becca doesn't respond, but instead presses him up against the wall and places her lips on his. Their lips move in sharp and quick motions, trying to get it over and done with as quickly as they can. And even though Becca's head is spinning, she isn't sloppy, she knows what she wants and she ensures that she takes the lead. Harry smiles into the kiss, actually wanting to enjoy it, but Becca has other plans. Before he has the time to do anything else, she's already forcing his shirt over his head and they're making their way to the bed. 

—— 

It was awkward — no surprise there. It had only been a short five minutes since they were making out against the wall, and now Becca was quietly closing his bedroom door behind her. Harry climaxed early which worked to her advantage in terms of getting the whole thing over and done with, but not for her enjoyment. It was a hot and sweaty mess, she knew that's what sex was normally like, but it had been advertised to her as being an enjoyable one nonetheless. And it really wasn't. Like not at all. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that her first sexual encounter was anticlimactic. 

She slicks down her hair as she makes her way back down the staircase, trying to rid herself of the obvious signs. She didn't want Sam to pick up on that 'just had sex' look from her because, honestly, she was too embarrassed to tell him what just happened. Normally she could tell Sam everything, but this was different. He'd judge her. Sam wasn't one to judge, but this would definitely cross his line because he hated Harry. He hated anybody who was involved with Campbell, and in doing this, she was turning his back on him. 

And there was Kelly, who she hadn't even considered until it was all over. The sinking feeling in her stomach set in realising that she had just helped Harry cheat on her. Kelly who could be a little intense sometimes, sure, but was actually a decent and sweet person. She didn't deserve that. And Sam surely wouldn't approve of that either. He'd probably give her a lecture about sleeping with Kelly's boyfriend, which she knew she deserved, but it wasn't like she was oblivious to her wrongdoings. Sam couldn't make her feel more guilty than she was already feeling. 

She finds Sam in the kitchen accompanied by Helena. Their eyebrows raise as they spot her in the doorway, and she wants to sink into a pile on the floor. 

"Where did you go?" Helena asks, suspicious because she could barely think for herself earlier. 

Becca shrugs her shoulders, cool as ever. "I was throwing up." 

It's a good excuse, the best she can think of on the spot. It's embarrassing enough, and makes the most sense out of anything she could say. The messy hair. The sweats. The flushed cheeks. The weird taste in her mouth. Their payoffs are similar enough. 

Sam is quick to wrap his arm around her, and usher her back out of the house. Not without a quick thank you to Helena for looking after her for him. 

It's freezing outside, their breath visible as they head back out to the street. Sam's father's car, that he had borrowed for the night, is parked a few blocks down for Harry's house. Becca's teeth chatter as they walk, and Sam keeps looking back at her with worried eyes. 

"Is everything okay?" He signs to her, but it's difficult to see in the dark. 

"Had a weird night, that's all." 

——— 

**_One month after_ **

It had been a month since Eden Gelb was born. A fresh snow lay on the streets of New Ham, but Becca had hardly noticed, too occupied with her newborn daughter. She knew babies were hard, but, _god_ , did she cry a lot. Not just Eden, but Becca too. Oh, and there was also the issue of a rebellion coup, but she didn't exactly have time to worry about that while wrestling with her baby to make her feed. There wasn't really much she could do anyway. 

She was exhausted, having barely slept a wink since giving birth. Considering everything, she looked good for what she had just put her body though, and the little sleep she had gotten since. 

Sam was downstairs with Bean, trying to serve up some dinner for everyone. Their cooking was decent considering their lack of experience, but it was nothing compared to Will's. 

Allie and Will hadn't been home since the coup started. Sleeping instead in Luke's wine cellar with nothing more than a lumpy mattress to share. The others had been trying to keep the house running ever since, keeping it clean and making sure everything is in order while they're gone. 

There was a trial a few weeks earlier, deciding their fate. Luke gave a false testimony of them trying to rig the election, and the crowd swallowed it up. Unlike the trial of Greg Dewey, there was no death sentence for the accused treason. Instead, they were sentenced to community service, which loosely translated to backbreaking labor in the fields that the expedition had found, despite the ground being frozen solid and inhabitable until spring. 

Not much had changed overall, like Lexie promised. Everything was happening slowly, the only changes from Allie's rule being that they could live in their own homes again and their food rations were significantly bigger. And so, there was a huge pile of food gathering dust in the Pressmans' kitchen because, unlike everyone else in town, they weren't planning on starving anytime soon. Becca was aware of how little they had, and didn't want her or her child to starve quicker than they had to. 

That's something that she had become conscious of after becoming a mother; this place goes further than just them. Unless they figure out a way to get home, Eden will grow up here and live on after all of the teens — the founders, if you will — are gone. She won't get to do so if they fuck up their chances of survival _this_ early on. That's what keeps her up at night. Well, that, and the screaming baby in the crib beside her bed. 

Meanwhile at the church, Harry Bingham was oblivious to the fact that he had brought new life into the world. Him, Campbell, and Lexie had gathered to talk about their next steps; mostly about what to do with Allie and Will. The guard were out doing their runs; Jason and Clark taking their prisoners out to the fields for a day of work, and Luke and Shoe doing basic civilian work — keeping the peace and such. 

It was clear that the power was getting to Campbell's head as he spoke, but Lexie was quick to shut him down when he went far. After all, _she_ was mayor, not him. Although, Campbell had given himself the official title of 'Political Advisor' which cemented only his complete control over Harry. 

The thing was, Lexie was actually a pretty decent mayor. Whereas Harry simply didn't care. Lexie ran for mayor out of spite whereas Harry did it purely for greed; spite was easier to deal with. It's not like she had an issue with the town's residents, only Allie. She didn't want chaos like Campbell did, she _actually_ wanted order. That was the difference. Who knows how the place would've run if Lexie wasn't there to balance the testosterone out. 

The meeting is uneventful, like most of them had been for a while now. Just Campbell and Lexie going around in circles, arguing about every single issue that's brought up and Harry just letting them. Maybe they should've perfected their political manifesto _before_ taking over the town. 

Campbell heads off as soon as he could, saying something about catching up with Jason and Clark. Harry knew what he meant, he wanted to see Allie and Will suffer. He liked to sit back and observe them as they did their work — shouting things at them and laughing — getting entertainment from their pain. Tearing them down from where they were to where they are now was possibly his greatest accomplishment of all. He had become obsessed with the idea of being on top. 

"I'm so fucking sick of him!" She exclaims as Campbell leaves the room, making sure he's close enough to hear her. Lexie was nothing if not passive aggressive. "Harry, I don't think I can take this for much longer. Last time I checked _we_ were the mayors here, not him. Why should he get to dictate everything we do?" 

He ignores her, hanging his head low and beginning to walk down the church aisle. Discussing Campbell, especially behind his back, was something Harry tried to avoid at all costs. If he acted out of line then Campbell might cut him off and he was too far gone to be able to deal with that again. His dependence too strong to risk not being able to get his fill. 

Lexie, persistent as ever, doesn't let him go that easily. She follows after him, speeding up to catch up with him. 

"What? Don't tell me you agree with him," she half-laughs. 

"Leave me alone, Lexie." 

Unsurprisingly, brushing her off has the opposite effect of what Harry's going for. She cuts in front of him and stops in his path, making him come to halt. 

"I don't know what he's got on you, man, but being Campbell's obedient little puppy dog isn't going to get us anywhere. If you think shit is hard now, just wait until he does something that _really_ screws us over. That guy will be the final nail in our coffin, and you know I'm right." 

Her eyes bore into his, searching for any hope that he might come to his senses, but he stares back blankly. 

He doesn't care, it's as simple as that. He doesn't care what happens to him or any of the assholes in this town. It's his depression talking, he knows that, but he just doesn't have the strength to fight it off anymore. Not for himself. Not for anybody else in this goddamn town because they all turned his back on him too. They thought of him as a murderer and even though it was proved false, they never quite warmed back up to him. He was partly responsible for that too, of course, but it would’ve been nice to see someone at least try. 

Lexie turns on her heel to leave, sauntering down the aisle with confidence despite just being shot down by Harry. 

She pulls a wheeled object out from the last row of pews. Harry's eyes focus on it, the familiar object that seemed to serve no purpose to any of them anymore. He furrows his brow in confusion. 

"What's the stroller for?" He calls after her, genuinely intrigued. 

Her reply is quick and snappy, but it takes him a few seconds to process it nonetheless. "It's for Becca's baby." 

——— 

He finds himself at the steps of the Pressman house. The last time he was here was months ago, that night after Dewey was executed and he came to visit Allie. A similar nauseated feeling rises in his stomach as he stands there and tries to convince himself to knock on the door, like he did all those months ago. 

The thought of Becca's baby being his — or even just of her having a baby in general that they had to take care of — kept him up the whole night. He tried to calculate the time since they slept together over and over again in his head, hoping to disprove himself as the father, but he couldn't. The dates lined up. The fucking dates lined up. 

Not only that, but he also tried to figure out exactly _how_ he hadn't noticed that she was pregnant in the first place. A pregnancy is normally a pretty obvious thing to spot, especially in a tiny teenage girl like Becca. Then again, Harry had spent the last couple of months before the election in bed completely numb to everything going on around him. Sure, he'd leave for the occasional work shift that he couldn't pawn off onto someone else, but apart from that, he was a complete and utter hermit. He couldn't remember the last time he had even _seen_ Becca. Probably before she started showing. She was probably on bed rest for a good while too, tucked away in the Pressman household with Sam. 

His lack of sleep has definitely had an impact on his appearance; darker eyes bags than usual, unstyled hair, still wearing the same sweater he wore to bed last night. Maybe she'll take pity on him just from his looks alone. 

Taking in a deep breath, he knocks on the door half-heartedly and pushes it open. He's halfway into the kitchen when Becca appears at the bottom of the staircase. 

She's home alone, everyone else out doing their jobs or just getting out of the house. Sam's at the library where he had been spending a lot of time recently, but he had been up all night with Eden so Becca doesn't mind. He deserves to get out of the house for a little while. So does Becca, but that doesn't mean she'll _actually_ take time away for her daughter. Even coming downstairs to answer the door feels like too much space away from her and Eden. 

It's an understatement to say she's surprised to see Harry here. In fact, it's almost knocked the air from her lungs. Nevertheless, she plays it cool. He might not be here for her, after all. There's so many people living in the house that the odds are pretty low. Anyway, he's mayor now, he could be here on business. 

"What are you doing here?" She asks, a little more confrontational than she meant to. She stays where she is on the last step, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself. 

Becca's cold demeanor is exactly what he expected, but it doesn't make anything easier. He digs his feet further into the ground and takes a deep breath. Here it goes, he's ripping off the Band-Aid as quick as he can. "Is it mine?" 

Gulping back the lump in her throat, she decides to play dumb. She can't deal with this, not now. "Is what yours?" 

"Your baby, Becca. Is it mine?" 

"I—" she begins, but the words catch in her throat. There's really nothing she can say. 

This is enough confirmation for Harry. The expression in her eyes as she searches for something to say, that's enough. 

"Fucking hell," he breathes out shakily. "When were you going to tell me about this?" 

An anger grows in his voice. How could she not tell him that he was father? Holy shit, he was a _father_. His genetics had been passed into another human, a tiny helpless human. 

Becca crosses her arms against her chest, trying to stay calm and collected. Asserting her dominance as Eden's mother. "Truthfully, I wasn't even planning on it." 

Harry shakes his head, eyes widening at her bluntness. "And why the fuck not? Did you really think I wasn't going to figure it out?" 

She has nothing to say because, honestly, that's what she had hoped for. That he was too drunk to even remember the encounter because she sure as hell wished that she didn't. Or maybe he just wouldn't care that she was his, a lot of dads were like that. Becca's dad surely didn't care that he had a daughter. 

Her voice is weak. "I didn't think you'd care." 

"Of course, I care!" He raises his voice in frustration. "I have a kid, and you weren't even going to tell me. I-I'm a dad." 

Rolling her eyes, Becca takes a step closer to him. "Whether you like it or not, _Sam_ is her father. Not you. I'm not letting you anywhere near my daughter." 

Despite her smaller frame, barely being as tall as Harry's shoulders, he's intimidated by her. Becca has always been intense, strong-willed and ready to speak her mind, but the mothering instinct kicking in had made he even more so. 

"You can't do this," he states like it's a fact. "You might not like it, but biologically she'll always be mine, and you know it. You can't stop me from seeing her." 

She blinks back in response. He's got a point, but, to her, blood relation doesn't account for shit. Just because you're someone's flesh and blood doesn't mean that they're going to care for you or be a positive presence in your life — if they're even in it at all. 

"What are you going to do? It's not like you can start a fucking custody battle." She mocks him. In the real world things would be different, but here they have different priorities. Their judicial system is enough of a mockery without playing custody court too. "I'm Eden's mother and if I don't want you in her life then you have to respect that." 

Harry's eyes soften, his tone becoming more desperate by the second. "Becca, come on. I just want to meet her, okay?" 

Honestly, Becca is taken aback by his sudden shift. He actually sounds kind of... hopeless? There's a weary look in his eyes, staring back at her with desperation. It's surprising, to say the least. Out of all of the guys she could think of that would be open to the idea of being a father figure so early on in his life, she never thought of Harry. Maybe it was the realisation of how important his father was to him after losing him only a year prior. He didn't want his child to go through life like that — even if she did clearly have Sam. 

Nevertheless, despite his sudden change of character, Becca still couldn't excuse his behaviour. How could she after everything that went down? Her best friends were sitting in cell right now because of him, that couldn't be forgiven. 

"Absolutely not. I know you think you're the big man on campus again after becoming mayor, but I don't want you anywhere near her," she fires back, despite feeling a tinge of guilt. "She might not live long enough to even know you because of you and your bullshit political agenda. You're putting her life in jeopardy, so, no, I can't sit back and let you nurture my daughter while you're the reason none of us will survive this place." 

"Becca—" 

She begins to shout, wanting him out of her hair as quickly as possible. She's stressed enough as it is without dealing with this too. "I don't want to hear it, Harry! You've made it pretty fucking clear that you only care about yourself. Now, get the hell out of here before anybody sees you here." 

From upstairs, Eden begins to cry from the disturbance. She hasn't been asleep for long, and now Becca would have to try and calm her back down again. It's almost deafening how loud and high-pitched it is, making Becca scrunch her face up in pain. 

"Get out," she says simply, looking Harry dead in the eye. 

He knows to listen to her, not to push his luck any further. She means business. 

Dragging his feet along the hard wood floor as he goes, he stops at the front door. He turns back to face her, his bottom lip pushed out unintentionally. His voice is soft as he speaks, low and harmless. "Is there any scenario where you'd let me be in her life?" 

Becca ponders for a moment, releasing a slow sigh. Shrugging her shoulders, she answers in barely a whisper. "I guess, if Campbell was out of the picture. He's a bad influence on you, you know?" 

He laughs a little under his breath. "Believe me, I know." 

And with that, he does what he's told and leaves. Back into the snow and ice, and back to reality. 

——— 

As Harry sat in his cold empty house, he had to admit to himself that he missed the company. Despite spending months trying to rid his house of his old roommates, he almost missed them. Mickey and the others annoyed the shit out of him when they were here, but now that they were gone, he felt unsettled in his own house. The only thing worse than a cramped house is an empty house, and the sudden shift made him uneasy. He even started locking his doors again which he hadn't done since they came to New Ham. 

He polished off another glass of his father's special scotch — a discovery that he found in the basement when looking for some of his baby items, maybe he could drop them off anonymously for Eden — and sank back into the armchair. Harry had been feeling numb for a while, but this felt like a different kind. The uncertainty of not knowing, he thought it was. Not knowing his daughter, or the future, or anything, really. And getting drunk or high was the only way he knew how to cope with that. 

He'd texted Campbell twenty minutes earlier to bring him something to take so when he heard the front door opening, he knew he was safe despite still being a little paranoid. 

Campbell padded into the living room without saying a word, and neither did Harry. He just stood in front of the armchair and stared back at Harry with a smirk upon his face. 

Campbell's eyes shift down to the half-empty bottle of scotch on the coffee table and back to Harry. "Well, are you gonna offer me a drink or what?" 

He grabs another glass and pours Campbell a glass. He pours himself another too, even though he probably shouldn't. 

"Did you bring the pills?" He asks as he passes the glass over to Campbell, not being able to help himself. It's the only thing that occupies his mind nowadays — where his next fix is going to come from. 

"Jesus, Harry. Is that all you think about? At least try and be hospitable first before using me like that." He takes a long drink, polishing off half the glass in one gulp. He smacks his lips together before getting to his next point. "Anyway, I've got a proposition for you. And trust me, it's a good one." 

Harry swallows back his dread. This is never good, when Campbell gets an idea. Nevertheless, he acts inconspicuous because he _needs_ those pills. "I'm intrigued." 

Campbell inhales, preparing himself for the conversation. "I think we've done a pretty good job of running this place so far, don't you? I mean, we're eating and living like normal people again, aren't we? No shitty rations or co-ed sleeping areas anymore. Neither of my cousins could do that." 

His point is incredibly weak that Harry almost wants to laugh in his face. Sure, he himself was sick of the way Allie and Cassandra ran the place, but since being in put in charge, the reality of what they were facing hit hard. How little they had left. He finally understood where they were coming from, unlike Campbell, clearly. 

"Right." 

"So, there's really only one problem left..." he pauses for what Harry can only assume is dramatic effect. It was hard to believe that Harry was the one who was in drama club in high school, not Campbell. "... Lexie." 

Harry scoffs. "What about Lexie?" 

He can't be serious. If it wasn't for Lexie, there's no way they'd be where they were today. They wouldn't have everyone's support. 

"Come on, Harry. Don't act like you don't see it," Harry can't tell if he's frustrated with him or laughing at him. All he knows is that there's a wild glint in Campbell's eyes that he doesn't trust. "It's okay, I'm not going to tell her if you talk shit behind her back. We aren't in high school anymore, remember?" 

"I honestly don't have a problem with her." 

Campbell slams his glass against the table so hard Harry's surprised it doesn't shatter into a million pieces. He flinches, jolting in his seat. 

"Fuck, Harry, that bitch has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she? Don't worry, though, I actually see through her bullshit." He lays a hand on Harry's shoulder, like he's trying to comfort him. Like he has a problem, or is in denial. He's being manipulative, like he normally did, but Harry had never been smart enough to realise it before. "Have you ever noticed that every time we put something across, she completely shuts it down? She wants all the control; she doesn't want to compromise with us at all. She accused Allie of being a dictator in the making, but she's just as bad. If we want this whole mayor thing to work then we need to be on the same page. I know you and I are, but, unfortunately, she just doesn't fit into our agenda anymore." 

"What are you suggesting?" Harry breathes out, his heart racing in his chest. He doesn't like where this is going. 

"We need to cut her out. I don't know exactly how yet, but I'm sure we'll figure something out. I knew this was going to happen, you know. I just had an inkling, but we needed the leg up." 

Harry doesn't know how to respond, his words failing to come. He can't even think, he's so in shock. He can see where this is going — first Campbell has to get rid of Lexie, and next, it'll be him. Then he'll have all the control, and nothing good will come of that. 

He decides to try and reason with Campbell despite knowing that it's impossible to get through to him. Once Campbell sets his mind on something, there's no turning back. But it doesn't hurt to try, does it? 

"Do you really think that'll work?" Maybe the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream isn't helping because he has no clue where he's going with this. If he knew that Campbell was going to give him another proposition then maybe he wouldn't have drunk so much. "I mean, the only reason we are where we are now is because of Lexie. They trust her, the town. If we arrested Allie and Will by ourselves, nobody would've believed us — that was all Lexie. I just don't think we've earned their trust enough to go against her quite yet." 

Campbell scoffs, not taking anything Harry said into consideration. "We're not going _against_ her. We're stopping her from getting too cocky, and ending up just like Allie. Let's be real, she was never going to be that good of a mayor, anyway. She's too opinionated, too controversial." 

He shrugs his shoulders, rising from his chair. He pulls the baggie with two white pills from his pocket and dangles it in front of Harry's face. 

"But, hey, if you want to take that risk then go ahead. If you want these, though, then maybe you should reconsider." He snatches it away and forms a fist around it. "Just think about it." 

Without another word, he leaves. Harry's back to being alone in the house, and he's even more unsettled than before. Now knowing Campbell's plans, he doesn't feel secure. 

How did he even think Harry would agree to that? Lexie was the only one actually taking her job seriously — Harry himself sure as hell wasn't — and suddenly she's the problem? Campbell's just threatened by her, Harry knows that. They both have such overbearing personalities that they were bound to clash eventually, but he always hoped that Lexie would come out on top. 

Because Campbell was the problem. He was always the problem. No matter what problem Harry was going through since they came here, he could always trace it back to Campbell; his dependence, all this mayor bullshit, his depressive episodes. It was all due to Campbell's manipulation. 

He wondered what Campbell would do if he found out about Eden being his. He'd probably use her to his advantage too, and that terrified him. Sure, he was mad at Becca, but he didn't want to put her through that — especially since he was trying to get on her good side. 

And then he had a thought, a wild stray thought that he'd normally push to the back of his mind, but this time his brain clung onto it for dear life. Thinking back to what Becca had said earlier, about getting Campbell out of the way. It would be easier for everyone, not to mention safer too. 

And that's when he decided — Campbell Eliot had to die. And he had to be the one to do it. 

——— 

Within an hour, Harry was at Lexie's doorstep. He'd been to her house a few times for different mayoral reasons, but never alone, and never this late at night. He tried to talk himself out of the visit until the next morning, but he just couldn't deal with the anticipation. He had always been spontaneous and reckless, and the alcohol of in his system didn't exactly make it easier to resist his urges. 

Sometimes he got so caught up in his mind that he couldn't sit still, he'd pace around the room or bounce his leg for hours while his heart thudded in his chest with no relief, and this was one of those times. The waiting was too much and he was too worked up. He thinks it's called being manic; when you're so emotionally charged up that you can even think of anything else except what you're fixating on. 

Unsurprisingly, Lexie isn't too thrilled to be woken up at one in the morning to Harry banging on his door. 

Once she opens the door to him, she stands there squinting her eyes, trying to focus on the figure of Harry on her doorstep. She probably thinks she's dreaming or hallucinating or something as she comes to, because why the hell else would Harry be coming to visit at this hour? 

Rubbing the sleep out her eyes, she quickly returns to her normal self. "What the fuck are you doing here? And why are you shaking so much? Jesus Christ, just come inside before you freeze." 

The thing is, Harry hadn't even noticed himself shaking before she pointed it out to him. He still hadn't managed to calm himself down, even after the long walk over here. 

"I'm not cold. I just— I need to talk to you." 

She tuts while shooting him a glare. "It couldn't have waited until the morning?" 

"No!" He says, almost too enthusiastically. His emotions are still all over the place, and he can tell by the look on Lexie's face that even she's concerned about him. "It can't wait, okay? We have to talk about this right now. Like right _fucking_ now, or it'll be too late." 

"What the hell are you even talking about right now, Harry?" She pauses to inspect his eyes, checking to see if they're blood-shot or dilated in any way. "Are you on something?" 

"God, no, I wish. This is happening because I'm _not_ on something," he's laughing, but he doesn't really know why. The next words come out of his mouth, clear as day and entirely serious, his eyebrows relaxing. "We need to get rid of Campbell." 

Lexie doesn't take it that way. She thinks he's bluffing or kidding around with her — because apparently, he doesn't have anything better to do at this time of night. 

"Holy shit, you _are_ on something," she shakes her head at him, beginning to close the door on him. "You know what? I'm going back to bed. Have a nice night, don't swallow your tongue." 

"Lexie, wait!" He sticks in foot between the closing door and the frame to prevent it from shutting. "I'm being serious here. He wants to get rid of you." 

Lexie stares back at him with a perplexed expression, furrowed brows and slightly open mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Harry's more mellow now, more sincere as he speaks. "He thinks you're threatening his power, and he wants you gone so he can do whatever he wants. But we can't let that happen," he continues. "It's not like I can take him on alone, he has too much power. You've got everybody's trust, people like you, Lexie. You're the only one who they'll believe." 

"What are you suggesting?" Lexie laughs in disbelief. "You know I can't just stand up in the town meeting and tell everyone Campbell did this and that. It's our word against his. He'd get me before the mob swallowed him up." 

"No, that's not what I'm talking about," his voice falters. "We need to get rid of him completely." 

Lexie's eyes widen, the gravity of the situation setting in. "What, like killing him?" She searches his face for any negative reaction, but there is none. He's being serious. "We can't just kill him!" 

"Like you said, what other choice do we have?" 

She doesn't know whether to take him seriously or not. On the one hand, he seems pretty serious, and she wouldn't put it past Campbell to pull a stunt like this — he had already roped them into one before. Whereas, on the other hand, it's Harry. Harry who has always been loyal to Campbell in whatever he does, so why should she believe him now? Maybe it's a setup; the only way to get rid of her is to make her turn against them first, so they can expose her to the town and get the full power for themselves. 

She sucks in a breath between her teeth, conflicted. "What I want to know is, why are you telling me all of this? You act like you're Campbell's bitch most of the time, so why are you warning me? What changed?" 

He can't give her a straight answer. He knows what he wants to say, but he can't say it out loud, especially not to Lexie. How can he tell her that he doesn't want his baby daughter to starve to death without her connecting the dots? Eden has given him a reason to live, and he's thankful for that. However complicated the situation is, he's still going to care about her and watch her grow — even if it is from a distance. 

"I guess, I've just realised that surviving this place is important. Before, I didn't even care what happened to myself, never mind everyone else, but now I know how close we are to being wiped off the face of the earth, and I don't want that to happen. I'm telling you now, we won't last longer than a few months with Campbell in power, he'll only make it harder. All he wants is to start chaos and watch this place crash and burn. We can't let him do that." He pauses, examining her face to see if she believes his sudden change of heart. "So, what do you say?" 

She's quiet for a moment, blinking back at him. Thinking that he still hasn't convinced her, he stares down at his shoes in defeat. 

Her voice returns, softer than before. "I'm in." 

——— 

Cramped between the mountains of stuff in Lexie's living room, they sit for hours trying to figure out a game plan. It needs to be quick, snappy, but it's an even bigger risk to be sloppy. Campbell can't catch on to what they're planning, or it'll backfire onto them. If he so much as gets a whiff of their plan, they're fucked. That's why they can't trust the guard — they're too loyal and would definitely relay the information to Campbell. 

The cramped space felt more secluded and secretive as they spoke. Stuff was everywhere and wasn't in any type of organised system, it was just there. It was exactly the right kind of vibe for the night because they were taking a risk. A stupid risk, but one that needed to be taken. 

"What about Luke?" Lexie offers. "I mean, you told me he stuck up to you guys before. He clearly doesn't want to be involved in any of this, he could help us." 

Harry shuts her down immediately. "No, we can't trust any of them, okay? No matter whether Luke wants to be part of it or not, they're a unit. If one of them knows our shit, they all do." 

"Then, what are we going to do afterwards, huh?" She's growing frustrated. "We need someone to back up our story. Just like you guys needed me to back up yours." 

Gripping the roots of his hair in annoyance, Harry grunts. "The guard is completely out of the picture, okay? Once we do this, if it works, we'll fill them in. Luke and Clark, they're weak — they'll just go along with whatever we say. Jason is the one we should be worried about, but I can handle him." 

Lexie is silent for a second, her thinking face on. She looks back at Harry after a moment, eyes filled with realisation, almost like she's just had an epiphany. "I think we've been forgetting about one option," she pauses, hesitant to say it. "Allie and Will." 

Taken aback by the shock of Lexie's proposal, he gasps. "What? You _hate_ Allie." 

"I don't hate her, I just didn't trust her," she shakes her head, trying to clear up her name. "But think about it, they're the only people in this town that hate Campbell more than we do." 

He ponders on the thought because she's right. Campbell was the one who orchestrated screwing them over. "Do you trust her now?" 

"More than I trust Campbell, anyway." 

——— 

Allie and Will might as well have laughed in their faces. It was their expected reaction, but a part of Harry hoped that maybe they'd be able to get it over and done with quickly. 

"Why the fuck would we help you out?" Will spat at them — mostly Harry. "You're the reason we're in here!" 

Allie stayed back, silently observing and chewing at her lip. She looked different these days — thinner, more tired — but still had that glint in her eye. 

"Look," Lexie began, taking the reins because Harry clearly wasn't. "Either you can sit here and give us abuse, which we'll admit that we deserve, or you can hear us out and we can bust you the hell out of here. It's your decision." 

Will looks over his shoulder to a nervous Allie, who is chewing at her hair. They exchange a look which isn't overly trusting but still desperate. 

Will sighs, a little defeated. "We're listening." 

Harry takes over. "I guess, the first thing we should say is that we're sorry for our part in what went down. Campbell manipulated us and—" 

Not being able to help himself, Will cuts him off. "Yeah, no shit." Harry shoots him a glare, and he puts his hands up in defeat. "I'm sorry. Go ahead." 

He exhales, continuing where he left off. "As I was saying, we let him manipulate us and have been continuing to do so ever since," he pauses, trying to pick his words carefully. "But we've realised that he isn't just affecting us, he's affecting the whole town. He's becoming more and more reckless as the days go on, and, honestly, we're scared he's going to do something to fuck us all over for life. We just need you to back up our story when we expose him for who he truly is." 

"What's the catch?" Allie speaks up for the first time since they got here. 

"There is no _catch_ ," Lexie makes air quotes with her fingers, suddenly sounding extra condescending. "You guys get out of this shit hole, and we get rid of the other shit hole." 

"Campbell is the other shit hole," Harry clarifies. 

Will rolls his eyes at him. "Yeah, we get it." There had always been a rivalry there between Harry and Will, and it was clear that nothing had changed. "What happens afterwards? How can we know that you're not just using us to get all the power for yourselves?" 

He thinks for a second because there really isn't really a way to convince them entirely. That's the thing, they just have to take their promise at face value. Although, the trust issue there could very easily prevent that. 

"After everything goes down, I'm going to resign as mayor," he explains slowly, making sure they hear every word. "Allie will take my place, only if she wants to, course, and she and Lexie will take over until we sort out a _legitimate_ election." 

Allie scoffs at the idea. "Lexie and I working together? That's the craziest thing you've said this whole time." 

Lexie shakes her head. "Look, I'm not thrilled about it either. We don't agree on a lot of things, obviously. But isn't that the point of a democracy — reaching a compromise?" Her eyes soften as she looks to Allie. "It's going to be a struggle, but I honestly think that if we communicate properly then we'll get out on the other side without killing each other." 

Allie hesitates to take her up on the offer. Her and Lexie's history was rocky to say the least, so why should she trust her now? How can they coexist together like nothing even happened? She turns to Will for support, who, surprisingly, looks even more convinced than she is. 

Harry senses this. Locking eyes with Allie, he gives her a reassuring smile. "You're just gonna have to trust us on this." 

She turns to Will, sharing another concerned look before nodding. "So, what's the plan?" 

——— 

Harry pounds on Campbell's front door, his heart racing inside of his ribcage. He's supposed to be faking getting worked up, but he genuinely is. He feels sick to his stomach due to the anticipation. He turns to Lexie beside him who, despite her excellent poker face, he knows is just as nervous as he is. 

It takes a few attempts, but eventually, the metallic clang of the door unlocking indicates that Campbell is there. As the door opens, they see him standing there in nothing more than a pair of black boxers and bedhead. 

He goes to open his mouth, but Harry cuts him off before he has the chance to say anything. His voice is panicked and rushed. "They've got out." 

Campbell, still half asleep, scratches his head. He hasn't understood what Harry has said, too tired to process the information. Maybe this'll work to their advantage, his guard being down like that. "What?" 

"Allie and Will, they're not in their cell." 

In reality, they really aren't in their cell. They're in Lexie's house, hiding in the guest/hoarding room until everything is over. Both Harry and Lexie are almost certain that nobody would find them there; her house is too difficult to navigate with all the stuff scattered everywhere. 

Campbell's eyes widen, his face dropping as he processes what they've just told him. "How the fuck did that happen?" 

"I don't know," Lexie takes over from him, right on cue. "I went to do morning checks and the cell was just empty. One of those idiots in the guard mustn't have locked the door properly last night." 

"Fuck!" He exclaims. He grabs a jacket and a pair of boots from the hallway, jumping into action. "What are we supposed to do?" 

Harry had never seen Campbell so worked up, so... hopeless. He's genuinely panicking, Harry can see it in the way his chest is heaving up and down. It's as if he isn't even Campbell at all, there's _actually_ emotion behind his eyes. 

Lexie clears her throat, subtly nudging Harry in the side so that Campbell can't see it. He hesitated, and they can't afford that right now — she needs to get him back on track. 

"Someone needs to take charge here, and I guess it should be me," Harry offers up, his voice weaker and less certain than before. How can he be having second thoughts already? "Lexie, find the guard and tell them to check around town with you. Search everywhere, all the houses, start with Allie's house. Campbell and I will search the perimeter of the woods, they'll most likely have fled town." 

Of course, Lexie isn't actually going to search town or wake up the guard because she knows exactly where they are, and the guard are idiots. She'll stay a reasonable distance away from the two boys, standing by in case things go south. There's a gun tucked in the waistband of her jeans, covered by the back of her trench coat, just in case it needs to be used. Harry's is in the jacket pocket, his hand brushing over the metal as he stuffs it inside for heat. 

Lexie nods, eager to get moving. "Stay in cell range, just in case." 

Within a few moments, she's bounding back over the front yard, rushing in the direction of Luke's house. She's convincing, Harry will give her that. Probably more convincing than he is being. 

Campbell rants to the entire way to the woods; asking how they could let this happen, threatening to kick Clark's ass (he was the one who locked up last night), and overall complaining about how stupid and irresponsible they had been — meaning Harry and Lexie because Campbell was never in the wrong. Harry pretended to listen, grunting in response and nodding as he droned on and on. 

By the time they were surrounded by several layers of trees, he finally shut up, too focused on finding his fugitives and dragging their asses right back to where he wants them. There was something ironic in the setup of the morning, casting back to all those games of fugitive they played during the first week of their time in New Ham. You'd think they'd be experts by now. 

The atmosphere was almost as dense as the fog settling around them. The visibility was poor, barely being able to see two feet in front of their faces. Even if Allie and Will were around, there was no way they'd be able to make out more than an outline of their bodies — and that's only if they were standing _right_ in front of them. 

It was about this time when Harry reached for the gun in his pocket. Until now, Campbell had mostly stuck to his side, probably not wanting to lose Harry in the thick of the fog, or maybe he was suspicious. There's really no sure-fire way to know what goes on in his head — at least not that Harry had found, anyway. 

In the warmth of his pocket, the metal of the gun chilled his fingertips. He was careful not to press his fingers against the trigger. Even though the safety was on, he still worried about blowing a hole in his pocket... or his leg. He wasn't comfortable with guns; he barely knew how to use one. Brushing his fingertips against something so lethal, so unpredictable, terrified him. 

"Harry!" The sharp edge of Campbell's voice startled him out of his daze. He had turned around, walking backwards to face Harry while he spoke. "Have you heard anything from Lexie?" 

He shakes his head, finding it hard to speak. 

Campbell turns back around, and all Harry can see is his back. Here it is, his chance. If he wants to go ahead with this, he has to act right now. It might be the only chance he'll ever get. 

Wrapping his hand around the gun, he pulls it out of his pocket. His hand is shaking, so he holds it with two hands, his arms hanging down so the gun is pointed down at his feet. He worries that just the sound of his hands slapping against the side of the gun make a sound loud enough for Campbell to hear. He doesn't react though. 

Making sure that his feet keep moving, he outstretches his arms so that they're in a straight line, the gun pointed directly at the back of Campbell's head. Clicking off the safety, he takes in a deep breath. He wants to shut his eyes, but he can't risk missing. The first shot has to be the only one, or who knows what Campbell would do. 

He watches as the barrel of the gun sways back and forth due to his shaking hands. How does he expect himself to not miss if he can't even stay still? 

A fresh layer of sweat forms on his forehead as he tries to find the courage to pull the trigger. Harry was never perfect, but he had certainly never been a _murderer_. Even if it was for the greater good, he still felt sick to his stomach. 

It wasn't as if Campbell was a good guy, but he was still a human being. Maybe in the real world there would've been a different solution to the problem — jail, probably — but they couldn't afford to do that here. In civilised society, murder wasn't normally the answer to their problems, but here, it had to be. Campbell Eliot was a threat, and it was his life, or all of theirs. It was an easy decision. The execution was the real struggle. After everything he put them through, especially Harry, you'd think it would be easy to pull the trigger, but it just wasn't. 

And that's when Campbell turns around. 

He's almost amused when he notices the pistol pointed at him. There's a spark in his eyes of something resembling pride. After always having seen Harry as weak, he doesn't believe that he'll actually go ahead with it. Nevertheless, he holds his hands up in defeat, despite the condescending smirk on his face. 

"What? You've brought me all the way out here to shoot me?" He laughs, not a trace of fear to be found on his person. "I've got to admit, Harry. I didn't think you had in you." 

Harry can't find the courage to speak. He stands firmly planted in place, pains shooting up his arms from holding them out for this long. 

Campbell's face pulls into a toothy grin. "But you don't, do you? If you did, you would've done it by now." 

"Shut the fuck up," he breathes out, panicked and husky. "You ruined my fucking life!" 

His reaction only makes Campbell laugh even more. "I don't know who put you up to this, but I have a feeling it was Lexie," he scoffs. "Whatever she told you, it's bullshit. It's been you and I since day one, man. I'm the only one that's ever been here for you, and you know it. We can run this town together, prove all of those assholes that they were wrong about you. Come on, just put the gun down and we can pretend like none of this ever happened." 

The thing about getting manipulated by someone for months on end is that even though you know how badly they've fucked your life up; you still find yourself believing them. Severing ties, especially like the ones Harry and Campbell have, is hard because part of your brain is still sympathetic towards them. Despite all of the god-awful moments they've shared together, Campbell manipulates him into focusing on the good ones instead. Or the less bad ones that he's made Harry think are actually good and normal. 

That's why he lowers the gun — it's the part of his brain still controlled by Campbell that makes him do it. 

As he does so, a deafening bang rips through the air. Harry ducks down, shielding his ears. He didn't pull the trigger; his finger didn't even graze it. Yet as he looks back up, Campbell Eliot is on the ground, the fog settling around his lifeless body. He wants to cry, a mixture of relief and shock. Campbell is actually dead; blood is oozing out of his head, staining the snow; he's not moving or breathing. Just like that, the problem is gone. 

Lexie emerges from the stark white fog, as if appearing out of nowhere. She holds her gun by her side, soft smoke coming out from the barrel. It was her. She was the one brave enough to do what Harry couldn't. 

She stares at him, fresh tears building up inside her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't be able to do it." 

That's when Harry starts to cry. Lexie does too, wrapping her arms around him, and dissolving into a puddle on the ground together. They knew that they did the right thing, but it was still too much for either of them to handle. 

——— 

It had been a few days since the execution of Campbell Eliot. Things were surprisingly fine in New Ham; Lexie and Allie were settling in nicely as co-mayors, and half of the guard had been honorably discharged for the time being. The half of the guard that was Jason and Clark, the two that were closest with Campbell and were questioning the events of that day the most. However, Harry was pretty certain they'd keep their mouths shut due to the fact that Allie had promised them that she wouldn't make their involvement in the coup common knowledge. He knew how important their reputations were to them. 

The town took the news of Campbell's death as expected; mostly shock and confusion. He and Allie had gone to tell Sam before announcing it in an emergency town meeting. He didn't know what to feel because his brother was always so belittling towards him, but they were still _brothers_. The only family he had left was Allie herself. They also told Elle personally, but she didn't say much in return, or emote at all, really. Harry didn't see anyone shed a tear for Campbell, not in public anyway. It was clear that the public's opinion of Campbell was similar to Harry's himself. It was almost comforting. It didn't stop the nightmares he kept having, though. 

Harry had stepped down from politics, like he had promised, and only got notified about everything that was going on from Lexie. In a peculiar way, killing Campbell had brought them closer together. 

He promised to keep his nose clean; stay out of the spotlight and help with the domestic duties like everyone else. But the thing he was most proud of himself for was that he had been sober for three days now. It wasn't much, but it was a start. It was the longest he hadn't had a drink or taken anything since they first came to New Ham. 

He kept his distance from Becca until she was ready to see him. She reached out the day before, asking him if he did it for her. He told her that he did it for Eden. That's when she agreed to let him see her. It wasn't an official thing, it wasn't like he'd suddenly be referred as her father or anything, but it was a visit. A good start, if you ask him. That night between them, and Eden's paternity, would remain a secret until they were both ready. 

Becca lead him up the staircase of the Pressman residence, sneaking away from everyone downstairs so that Harry could meet Eden for a few short minutes. It was enough for him, though. 

He could hear her before they even got to Becca and Sam's bedroom, crying out for her mommy most likely. 

Her cot was set up at the far side of the room, and Harry could feel butterflies in his stomach as he followed Becca over there. She picked her up first, bouncing her up and down to try and make her stop crying. It worked, much to Harry's surprise. It was like magic, watching how Becca's touch calmed her right down. 

Becca smiled as she looked down at her, almost forgetting Harry was standing there patiently. He knew he wouldn't be able to develop a bond with her half as special as theirs, but he didn't mind. 

"Remember to hold her head up, okay?" Becca told him as she passed Eden over to him. He knew to do so — he used to hold his little sister when she was this small — but he bites back the snarky response that threatens his tongue. 

He doesn't understand how a baby can be so light yet so heavy at the same time. He fears that she'll float if he doesn't hold her tight enough, yet he's worried his arms will give in and he'll drop her at the same time. 

She's beautiful, better than he could've ever imagined her being. She has Becca's eyes for sure, but he can see glints of him in them too. Her nose is like his, and the dainty curls forming on top of her head look like his too. 

For the first time since he got to New Ham, he felt at peace. As he held that baby girl in his arms, he saw a glimmer of hope for the new world. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! this was so much fun to write, and i'm excited to put out the next chapter! it'll probably be about luke but please don't hold me to that lmao


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